


Out of Sorts

by jennytork



Series: The Power Monkees chronicles [1]
Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, Power Monkees, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9185092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennytork/pseuds/jennytork
Summary: Davy just isn't acting like himself today.





	

OUT OF SORTS

The only explanation they could think of was that something had gone very wrong with the date with Bess. Davy had come home from it out of sorts, a bit snappish and short-tempered. He just wanted to be left alone, it seemed.

Valerie called Bess, who denied that the date had gone bad. They had gone to a movie – hadn't watched much of it – and had gone for a pleasant dinner and a pleasanter walk after. He had taken her home, come in for an hour or two, and then had left her with a loving kiss. Davy had seemed on top of the world when he left.

So when Davy came back from the beach, Mike started right in. "You feelin' okay there, buddy?"

Davy frowned. "Sure. Why?"

Peter said, "You just haven't seemed quite yourself all day, not since your date last night."

"Oh, that. Well, you know how these things go. Not like I'll ever see her again, so..."

Micky frowned. "What do you mean? She's your girlfriend--"

"This week. We both know next week there'll be someone else. That's just how it goes, innit?"

Peter's hand flashed out and landed on Micky's arm, even as his voice went a little cold. "Yeah, Davy – that's how it goes with you."

Davy rounded on him. "And what's that supposed to mean? Just because you're all married, don't mean you get to go high and mighty on me!"

Mike cut in, "Davy, Peter wasn't--"

"And you!" Davy turned. "What the hell is the idea? This is some kind of interrogation? So I had a bad day! That's some kind of crime?" He grew as he snarled, till he was eye to eye with Mike.

Mike held up both hands in surrender. "Fine, man. Your life."

"Thank you!" He shrank back to normal and went into his bedroom, complaining under his breath.

Three pairs of eyes met – narrowing.

~*~

Davy begged off practice that evening, claiming the interrogation had given him a headache. He stayed in the bedroom through supper, telling them that he didn't want to listen to Micky making wedding plans. He said it as though it was something distasteful that he just wanted out of his mouth.

"I don't know, man," Peter hissed to Mike as they stood on the balcony. "I don't feel right leavin' tonight."

"Go on," Mike assured him. "I'll alert you if we need you. You need to keep your normal plans, or this won't work."

Peter sighed, shaking his head. After a moment, he sighed again. "All right. I expect a phone call later, if we're wrong."

"Deal. Try to get some rest. What's that verse you're always telling me....." He trailed off.

Peter huffed slightly, but he was smiling now. "'Do not be anxious for anything'," he quoted. "And turning my own comforting back on me?"

"Get outta here," Mike grinned.

Peter laughed softly and his eyes glowed blue as he launched off the balcony. He shaped his hand like a phone receiver next to his ear, and got a nod and a wave in return. Comforted, Peter soared over the ocean and down the beach, heading back to Valerie's mansion.

Mike sighed and headed back inside.

Three hours later, the door to the downstairs bedroom creaked open and Davy crept out. He crept up the stairs and slowly peeked into the bedroom. One bed held a lightly dozing Mike, and on the other Micky's wild curls were plainly visible. The rest of him was curled under the covers, which moved with the unmistakeable rhythm of breathing.

Satisfied, Davy grinned and stepped out of the doorway, closing the door behind him. He slipped down the stairs and out to the beach. He grew to eight feet and ran away from the house as fast as he could.

He didn't notice the sliding door to the balcony opening and closing again.

~*~

The warehouse was down by the docks on the other side of Malibu Beach, in an area of town where there were few people and even fewer that cared to get involved. Davy shrank down to his natural height and walked to the locked door.

He unlocked it and stepped inside, clicking the light on and laughing at the sight before him. "I thought I gave you a little much, but it kept you here and quiet."

At his voice, a dark head wobbled up from the chest of the man shackled to the chair and brown slits blinked confusion at him. 

"Well, then, nobody can accuse me of not being thorough." He walked over and cupped the man's cheek, turning it into the light. "Last thing I needed was you breaking free."

".....find me," his own voice whispered.

"Find you?" he laughed. "Nobody even knows you're missing! You're replaceable, Jones. And you've been replaced!"

"....no...."

"Oh, yes." He grinned and walked over to the corner, returning with a case which he unzipped as he talked. "And the beauty of it? I don't even have to kill you. All I have to do..." He drew out the syringe and tapped it to clear air from it. "Is keep you sedated enough for long enough, and let dehydration take its natural course."

"....find me...."

"Nobody's gonna find you, hotshot." He crouched down and tangled his hand into the dark hair, pulling his double's head back and baring his throat. "This won't hurt a bit." He angled the needle just right and started to press it in.

The syringe exploded in his hand.

"....the hell?" he jerked to his feet, glaring around him. "You were asleep! I saw it!"

The air seemed to thicken as Micky returned to view. "You saw a wig and a field under the covers. How the hell did you get out of jail, Thomas?"

"They haven't made the cage that could hold me, Dolenz." He grew a couple of inches and wrapped his hand around Davy's throat. "And if you don't let me walk out of here – right now – I will snap his neck. And you can't stop me."

"That's where you're wrong," Micky smiled, and it wasn't his usual sunny smile. "I'd even go so far as to say – you're dead wrong."

Thomas didn't even have time to gasp as the chair Davy was shackled to suddenly blew over and Thomas went airborne, slamming full-force into the warehouse wall before being slammed to the ground. He lay there for a second, stunned and winded, then rolled onto his side and tried to rise.

But in that second, Micky had crossed the warehouse and grabbed him by the hair of the head. Micky raised his head just enough so that went he slammed it back into the ground, there was enough force behind it to knock the size-changer out.

The fact that it broke Thomas's nose in the process was a bonus, so far as Micky was concerned. "The only reason I don't snap your damned neck," he growled to the unconscious man, "is because I promised Peter I wouldn't."

He moved back to the overturned chair and used a field to snap the shackles. "....find me...." he heard Davy whisper.

"Yeah, buddy," he said, gathering the sedated man into his arms and rocking him, rubbing his arms to restore circulation. "We found you." He looked up as Peter touched down outside the warehouse, carrying Mike. He grinned, knowing that the emergency signal he'd sent up had been seen and understood. He bent his head back down over his friend's, still rocking him and urging him awake. "We found you."


End file.
